Visitation
by lildreamer7
Summary: Chapter 7 up! Crossover. Everyone has their demons...even angels.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Visitation

**Author:** lildreamer

**Rating:** T for scary images

**Pairings:** there may be one by the end; no guarantees though

**Spoilers:** none for TBAA. But if you've never read the book or seen the movie, there are major spoilers for "The Visitation."

**Summary:** Crossover. Everyone has their demons…even angels.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own TBAA or any of its characters. They belong to CBS. And the novel "The Visitation" belongs to Frank Peretti.

**A/N:** This is my first TBAA fanfic, so please be nice. Soli Deo Gloria!

**All right, on with the story…**

* * *

Travis Jordan looked through the cage door at the black Labrador retriever resting inside. It lay there, staring back at him with tired eyes. As he gazed at the sick dog, the haunting images returned. Images he could not erase from his mind. Memories. There she was, lying in the brush, her hands and feet bound with barbed wire, a chisel, of all things, drilled through her heart. The memory of that horrible day came back fresh and raw. He closed his eyes, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. Losing his wife had been hard enough, and now Max was sick. That dog was all he had left of his wife. He couldn't bear to lose him, too.

He touched the cage door, his eyes locking with the dog's big, brown ones. A tear slipped from his eye and ran down his cheek. What was left of his world felt like it was crumbling around him.

The sound of footsteps approaching caught his attention. Quickly brushing the tear from his face, he pushed himself up from his crouched position beside the cage. He heard the door at the far end of the kennel swing open. He turned and smiled sadly at the blonde veterinarian. She hesitantly approached him, her hands buried in the pockets of her white lab coat.

"I'm very sorry I couldn't do more for your dog," she apologized, glancing at the lab then back at its owner. "I'm afraid at this point we're talking comfort not cure."

Travis closed his eyes, the reality of it all finally sinking in. It seemed he was destined to be alone. "There's nothing you can give him?"

The doctor shook her head, regretfully. "If we'd caught it sooner…"

Travis sighed, accepting the verdict. "You did the best you could." He looked at his dog, sadly. "Can I take him home?"

"Of course." The doctor turned toward the doorway just as a pretty redhead wandered into the room, carrying a small black and white terrier. "Monica, can you get Max ready to go?"

The redhead smiled warmly. "Sure thing, Morgan. Just as soon as I put Mr. Dog back in his cage."

"Travis, there are some papers you need to fill out before you leave. Gloria can help you with those."

A short brunette walked into the room, her head buried in a clipboard. She looked up at them and smiled, adjusting her glasses. "I just need you to sign a few things then you and Max can be on your way."

"All right." Travis followed the woman out of the kennel, the doctor trailing behind.

Unnoticed by Travis and Morgan, Monica and Gloria exchanged a brief glance as the trio walked past.

Seven minutes later Travis was carrying Max to his truck, the poor dog wrapped up in a warm blanket. He laid the dog across the passenger seat then walked back around to thank the vet and her assistants. The three women smiled, wishing him well.

They watched as he climbed into the truck and drove off. Morgan turned, not thinking much, just wondering, feeling the same old _why_ that came at times such as this, and went back inside, leaving Monica and Gloria alone in the parking lot. They looked on as the black truck swung out of the lot and merged with the steady flow of traffic.

"So he's our new assignment, Tess?" Monica asked the older, dark-skinned angel that had just appeared beside them.

Tess nodded. "Travis used to be a man of God. A minister at the church. But three years ago, all that changed."

"What happened?" Gloria wondered.

"His wife died. Murdered in cold blood. They never caught the killer."

"Poor man. No wonder he's so angry…and so sad." Monica's heart filled with sympathy for the man. He would have to live with this horrible past until the day he died. "Andrew, were you there? When Travis' wife died?" she asked the blonde angel that had come out of nowhere and was making his way toward the group.

He thought for a moment and shook his head. "No. She was probably someone else's assignment."

"What can we do?" Gloria asked.

"He's hurting, baby," Tess explained. "When he lost his wife, he also lost his faith. He needs someone to help him face his demons. To help him understand that the one he turned his back on three years ago is the only one that can give him the peace he's been searching for." She glanced up at the sky, a troubled look on her face. "And Lord knows, he's gonna need it."

Monica saw the growing fear in her friend's eyes. "What's wrong, Tess?"

"Something's coming, angel girl," Tess answered darkly. All three of her charges gave her concerned looks. "Something terrible has been unleashed in this town…"

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	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, everyone! Here's another chapter for your reading pleasure. Thanx to…**

_littlegloriafaith_

…**for the review. God bless. Enjoy!

* * *

**

Antioch is a beautiful town at night—a blanket of jewels out in the country—and when the sky is clear, the stars twinkle like diamonds in the night sky. A full moon had risen, and one could just see the first stars off to the east.

A young man in his early twenties, with messy black hair, was driving down an empty country road headed back into town, the radio blaring. His cell phone chirped loudly from the cup holder. He picked it up, glanced at the caller id, and lifted it to his ear, smiling.

"Hey, Darlene…" He glanced back at his cargo. "Yeah, I got it. I got carded in Belmont. I had to drive all the way up to Butler…" He chuckled. "Yeah. Don't worry, I'll be there."

The music from the radio suddenly cut off. White noise crackled from the speakers.

"I don't know…" He reached down to adjust the dials. "Something's going crazy with the radio."

When he looked up again, his eyes widened. Three dark figures were standing in the road, directly in his path. He immediately crammed the break pedal into the floor. The large vehicle slid and spun out of control, flew off the road, tumbled down a steep embankment, and crashed into a tree.

* * *

Within thirty minutes the crash site was isolated and a full investigation launched. Yellow tape marked off the area, and within it several uniformed police officers and paramedics were digging through the wreckage in an attempt to rescue the driver. A local pastor was there as well, assessing the damage to his church van. A journalist from the local newspaper stood by the tape, watching the officers work, a notepad in one hand, a digital camera in the other.

Another police cruiser drove up to the scene and before it could come to a complete stop, Morgan Elliot jumped out from the passenger seat, frantic. Monica followed close behind, trying to calm her.

"Where's Michael? Where's my son?"

Spotting the wreckage below, Morgan rushed clear past the town sheriff who was busy trying to console his daughter. She had been the girl Michael had been on the phone with before the accident. She had called it in as soon as she'd figured out what had happened.

Reaching the embankment, Monica spotted a familiar face nearby watching all the excitement, unseen by human eyes. She left Morgan to find her son and walked up beside him. He had a very confused look etched on his handsome features.

"Do yeh know anything about this, Andrew?" Monica questioned.

The angel of death shook his head, his brow furrowed. Something wasn't right.

As Morgan carefully made her way down the embankment, her lab coat billowing behind her, she prayed fervently that her son would be okay. An officer pointed her toward the deputy who was questioning her son while a paramedic gave him a full examination. Aside from looking like he'd seen a ghost, he seemed to be okay.

"…I hit the tree, then it got all white." The paramedic pulled a penlight from his kit and shined it into the boy's eyes. The eyes were clear. The pupils responded. "It was like another world." His next words caught the two angels' attention. "And then I saw…an angel."

Monica and Andrew shared a look.

"Michael, are you okay?" Morgan pulled her son into her arms, relieved to find him alive and well.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Michael answered as his mother checked him over.

"Not a scratch on him," the deputy commented. "Never seen anything like it. Your boy should be dead."

It was true. No one could have survived a crash like that. The van was wrapped around a tree, totaled. And the driver should have been, too. But there he was. Alive. No injuries whatsoever. Something definitely wasn't right here. But Morgan didn't care. She was just glad that she still had her son.

"Can't figure it out for the life of me, Brett." The deputy shook his head in disbelief, turning to the sheriff who had just come down to join them. He was studying what appeared to have been the van's cargo. The deputy smirked. "Looks like someone went on a run."

The sheriff gave the pastor a look. "Ya'll throwin' a keg party over at the church, Kyle?"

The pastor chose to ignore the sheriff's implications. "Looks like somebody was."

Morgan glared at her son, knowingly.

* * *

It didn't take long for the news of Michael's miraculous survival to spread through the town like wildfire. The headline: "_Local Boy Survives Fatal Car Crash_" was plastered on all the newspapers for several days. Then other unusual headlines began to appear. Week after week. Stories of a crying crucifix, miraculous healings, and visions of Jesus in the clouds and other absurd places.

What worried the angels were the mysterious angel sightings. They were there at the crash. And again at the healings. There were always three of them. Dressed all in black.

None of the angels had revealed themselves yet and knew nothing of other fellow angels who had assignments in the area, so they had no idea who or what these people were seeing. But it was their strange message the scared the angels the most. Every single time they had appeared to someone, it was the same three haunting words: "_He is coming_."

Just who this 'he' was no one knew, not even the angels. But they all had a feeling they would soon find out.

"I don't understand. What's goin' on here, Tess?" Monica asked one day, as she and the other three angels strolled down the same road where the accident had occurred.

"You'll find out soon enough, angel girl." Tess answered, walking ahead of the group. "You all will."

They stopped at Antioch's welcome sign and found themselves gazing over the small town below.

"Tess?" Monica gave her friend a worried look. She was never this quiet. Something was bothering her.

Tess didn't answer right away and just continued to stare down at the town, a solemn expression on her face.

"It has begun."

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	3. Chapter 3

**Hello! Here's another chapter! Thanx to…**

GrimlockX4

…**for the review. Enjoy!

* * *

**

Andrew wiped his sleeves across his forehead, squinted through the glare toward a distant line of dusty hills, and breathed in a deep lungful of fresh country air. He was leaning against a dirty shovel, watching as Travis paid his final respects to his best friend. The man seemed strangely empty, like a body without a spirit. His eyes were filled with sorrow, but he did not cry.

Travis stared down at the small, freshly dug grave, his eyes vacant, his shoulders slumped like a defeated athlete. "So long, Max…"

He solemnly pushed a toy bone into the dirt, marking the grave, then turned to grab a bottle resting on a nearby tree branch.

"Uh…Travis," Andrew began, knowing what that bottle contained. "I don't think you should—"

"I'm not paying you to think, Andrew," Travis interrupted, glaring at him. For all the alcohol the man had consumed, his words were only slightly slurred. "I'm paying you to fix this place up. Now, get back to work." He took a swig of the bottle's contents, emptying it, then threw it at the foot of the tree where other bottles littered the ground. "And mind your own business."

Andrew swallowed hard. "Yes, sir."

He scooped up the shovel and turned in the direction of the barn. Travis mumbled something and slowly trudged back to the house. The angel watched him for a moment with a look of infinite sadness. He could only imagine how lonely Travis must be feeling right now.

"How's he doing?"

Andrew looked over his shoulder at Tess. "He's breathing. That's all I can tell you." He stared at the screen door that had just swung shut. "I just can't get through to him, Tess."

The older angel put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about it, angel boy. That poor baby might not be ready to listen to you, but maybe he'll listen to an old friend."

As she said that, a car pulled up to the ranch. A man with neatly combed dark hair, wearing a nice suit, climbed out of the car, shaking his head at the sorry sight of the rundown ranch.

Andrew smiled, recognizing the man from the crash site. Pastor Kyle Sherman. He turned to say something to his friend, but she had already gone. The pastor spotted him and came up to meet him, introducing himself, a big smile on his face. Andrew returned the gesture and went to let Travis know he had a visitor. He knocked on the side of the screen door.

"Hey, Travis," he called into the house. "There's someone here to see you."

They heard the man stumble around inside before appearing in the doorframe. His eyes narrowed when he saw the pastor.

Kyle smiled. "Travis?"

"I'm not going, Kyle," said the sour-faced man in the doorway.

The pastor chuckled, shaking his head. "Church has long been over, Travis. So is lunch." He saw the bottle the man clutched in his right hand. "I see you've started happy hour."

Travis rolled his eyes, moving from the doorway, wordlessly allowing his friend to come inside. Kyle shrugged, giving Andrew a look, before stepping into his friend's home.

The house was cold and lonely. There was a light layer of dust on all the furniture. The cushions on the good chairs were tattered and stained. The counters and sinks were piled with dirty dishes and empty beer bottles. Unopened mail and various magazines were scattered all over the table and floor. Kyle shook his head in disdain. This was a sad way to live.

He followed Travis into the kitchen where the man picked up an empty mug and a cold pot of coffee. He took a deep breath, deciding to get to the chase.

"I guess you know everybody in town's talkin' about nothin' but."

Travis shrugged. "People talk." He offered Kyle a cup of coffee, which the pastor kindly declined. "People see what they wanna see," he continued, placing a mug of coffee in the microwave. He started it then turned back to his friend. "Miracles, like faith, are psychosomatic."

Kyle shook his head. "I disagree."

Travis stared at him, a very serious look on his face. "My last shred of faith and significance died this morning."

The pastor winced. "Max?" Travis' eyes were downcast, giving him his answer. "I'm sorry to hear that Travis. I know how much he meant to you and Marian." Travis remained silent, going to retrieve his coffee, as Kyle offered a few words of comfort. "We don't know why bad things happen to good people. We don't always understand His plan—"

Travis rolled his eyes, putting his mug down onto the counter a bit harder than he had intended. "Spare me the clichés, Kyle."

"Look, Travis, I came over to tell you the ministers are all having a meeting tonight at _Our Lady_. I'd like you to come."

"I'm not a minister anymore."

"I'd still like for you to be there. Your skepticism will give us a healthy balance." Kyle grinned. He was up to something. "Pick you up at six?"

Travis stared at him in disbelief. "Have you heard a word I said?"

Kyle chuckled. "I hear real well."

Travis' eyes followed the pastor as he stepped out the door and strolled back to his car. He shook his head, reaching for his coffee, when a familiar sound reached his ears. He glanced out the window, straining his ears to hear where it was coming from. _It couldn't be…_

He tore through the kitchen and dashed outside, running past Andrew who had heard the sound, too. He had only gotten about a few yards from his house when he spotted what was making all the noise.

He froze where he stood, hardly breathing, taking in a sight he wasn't ready to believe.

"_Max!?_"

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	4. Chapter 4

**Hey, everyone! Here's chapter 4! Thanx to…**

littleGloriaFaith

GrimlockX4

…**for the reviews! God loves you and so do I! Enjoy!

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**

It was impossible.

But there he was. The dog continued to bark, smiling, panting, its tail wagging happily.

"Max!"

Travis ran up to the dog and gathered it in his arms, petting and stroking its fur, lovingly roughing up its ears. Max licked his face, returning the greeting. He glanced at where the dog had been buried. The dirt was disturbed and the toy bone lay to the side. He had no idea what was going on. Had he buried the dog alive? Or was it some kind of miracle? Whatever the case, he was just glad Max wasn't dead.

Andrew witnessed this "family reunion" of sorts from a few feet away, a deep crease in his brow. "That's not possible…"

The dog suddenly began barking loudly, pulling the angel from his thoughts. It broke free of Travis' grasp and ran forward, barking and growling at something on the small hill nearby. Travis shifted his gaze toward where the dog's attention seemed to be focused and his eyes widened.

Three dark figures were standing on the hill, motionless. They seemed to have been watching the entire time. Then as suddenly as they had appeared, they vanished. Without a trace.

Travis had to fight the urge to rub his eyes. He seriously thought he was losing his mind or something. Those guys weren't real…were they?

But Travis was not the only one that had seen the three figures. Andrew had seen them, too. And the moment he'd spotted them, he'd felt a chill go down his spine. He had a bad feeling about those three.

* * *

"Hello?"

Morgan looked up from washing out the empty dog cages to find a vaguely familiar face standing in the doorway. "Hi."

"We met the night of the accident," Kyle offered, stepping all the way into the kennel.

Morgan nodded. "I remember." She handed the water hose to Monica who had been mopping up behind her. "Look, I intend to pay you for all of it, but if we could just work out some kind of payment plan…I just relocated and took over this business."

Kyle smiled, understanding. "From San Francisco."

"We did."

"Look, I'm not worried about the van. What I came for is to ask if you could bring Michael to a meeting tonight at _Our Lady of the Hills Catholic Church_."

The blonde vet studied the pastor suspiciously. "Why?"

Kyle held up a copy of the newspaper from the week of the accident. "In this article, Deputy Smalls says Michael saw something unusual. We're interested to know what that might be."

Morgan shook her head. "I'm sorry, but we're really not church people."

"Well, that makes this a little awkward…" Kyle pulled out something that had been tucked inside the newspaper. A book. "But here, I brought a—well, a welcome to the community gift. Uh, a Bible I brought for you." He held the book out to her. She accepted it out of courtesy. "Maybe you can use it. I find it a comfort in a time of need."

"Okay."

Sensing the vet's uneasiness, Kyle decided it was time for him to go. He turned to leave. "Maybe I'll see you tonight." He gave Monica a smile. "And what about you, miss? You're more than welcome to come, too."

"My name is Monica." The redhead angel said, returning the smile. "And I'd love to."

"Good. Now, you ladies have a nice day!"

Morgan shook her head, her hands on her hips, as the man disappeared out the door. She looked down at the leather-bound book in her hands, wondering what on earth she was going to do with a Bible.

"Ah, a Bible," Monica said, peering over her shoulder. "That's my favorite book."

Morgan rolled her eyes and carelessly tossed the Bible onto a shelf. She took the water hose back from Monica and sent her off to check on things back in the office. Monica walked out of the kennel, shaking her head disappointedly. Morgan was so busy running from her past that she couldn't see God reaching out to her.

After grabbing a cup of coffee from the break room, Monica went up to the front desk and began to chat with Gloria about their assignment. There were no emergencies and no appointments scheduled for that time, so the office was pretty much empty. Gloria was about to ask the older angel about something that had been bothering her when she spotted a familiar face coming through the front door. Monica followed her charge's gaze and her lips curved into a smile.

"Hullo, Tess."

"Hello, babies. How's it going?"

"Why are we still here?" Gloria asked bluntly, straightening the stack of folders sitting in front of her. Tess gave the youngest angel a look. Monica's mouth formed a small "o." She'd learned long ago never to question the Father's plans. Unfortunately, Gloria hadn't quite grasped that concept, yet. "I mean, Max died. So, Travis won't be coming back here anymore…right?"

Tess was about to reprimand her, but before she could say anything, Andrew suddenly appeared next to them. He was leaning against the desk, lost in thought.

"Andrew, what's wrong?" Monica asked, noticing the troubled look on her friend's face.

Instead of answering her directly, he turned to their supervisor, his brow furrowed. "Tess, something strange is going on here. I don't know what it is, but I don't like it."

The older angel lifted a hand to silence him. "Whoa, slow down, angel boy. What happened?"

"Max. He's alive. I don't know how, but that dog's alive," Andrew explained. "Travis and I buried him this morning. He was dead. And now, he's alive. He literally crawled out of his grave a couple of hours ago."

They all stared at him in shock. "What???"

"And there were these guys up on the hill by Travis' place. Three of them. They appeared when Max came back to life. I think it was those angels everyone's been talking about."

Gloria arched an eyebrow. "So, there really are other angels here?"

Andrew shook his head fervently. "Uh uh, those guys were no angels."

"Tess, do yeh know anything about this?" When the supervisor didn't answer, Monica turned around to see what she was up to. But Tess was gone.

The trio exchanged worried looks. Tess was hiding something from them.

* * *

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	5. Chapter 5

**Hello! Here's the 5****th**** chapter! Thanx to…**

GrimlockX4

littleGloriaFaith

…**for all the reviews! This one's for you! Enjoy :)

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**

Andrew, Monica, and Gloria sat near the back of the church, sharing a pew. They were talking quietly amongst themselves about all the strange things that were going on in that town. The girls had come one their own. Both angels had done all they could to persuade Morgan to come, but the woman would not be swayed. Andrew had come with Travis. The man had almost backed out at the last minute, but the angel was able to convince him otherwise.

The angels kept glancing uneasily at the crowd of townspeople sitting more toward the front. Most of them were just praying. But there were those who were looking for a miracle and had their eyes fixated on the "crying" crucifix, waiting for something. The angels shook their heads. This was so ridiculous.

"Have either of yeh seen Tess?" Monica asked worriedly. They hadn't seen their supervisor since she had disappeared earlier that day.

Both her friends shook their heads. When Tess didn't want to be found, not even her own charges could find her.

The angels suddenly felt a cold chill settle in the room. Then a strange feeling filled their senses. But as quickly as it came, it was gone.

At that moment, a tall rugged-looking man with long, blonde hair strolled in through the front doors. His black trench coat billowed behind him as he took a few steps down the center aisle and settled into a pew almost directly across the aisle from the angels. He shared the pew with two others, dressed all in black. One looked younger than the blonde, with short spiky hair; while the other, with full beard and salt and pepper hair, seemed much older. They shared a look then focused their attention on the people up front making fools of themselves.

The three angels stared over at them suspiciously. Blondie and his friends suddenly turned their heads, giving the angels an icy gaze.

Gloria felt a shiver go down her spine and Monica put her arm around her. The redhead unconsciously scooted closer to Andrew, suddenly feeling very uneasy about those three. Andrew put a hand on top of hers, trying to ease the fear he saw in her eyes. Who were those guys? And what were they up to?

* * *

No one had noticed Travis wander into the church that evening. He quietly slipped into the meeting and stood in the corner, listening. The ministers were too busy arguing with each other to realize that he was there. The only one that seemed to be aware of his presence was an older woman who standing at the head of the table. She seemed to be the one in charge of the meeting and looked like she was getting a headache, listening to these guys bickering. She gave him a small smile when she saw him enter the room.

Kyle had just spoken up, getting in what he had to say about all the strange things that had been happening around town.

"Look, it's my opinion that all these signs are nothing but demonic manifestations."

The black preacher sitting beside him rolled his eyes. "Of course, you do. Pentecostals see demons behind every rock and tree."

"And a Baptist wouldn't know a demon if he hit him in the head," Kyle shot back.

"Demons don't heal, Kyle," the Baptist argued.

One of the priests, the younger one, shook his head. "That's the problem with you fundamentalists. You both take the Bible too literally."

His fellow priest backed him up. "Judge not, lest ye be judged."

"I am not judging anyone. I'm trying to set this board on a path—"

"And I'm just stating a fact—"

"You want facts—"

"HEY!" The woman had had about enough listening to these guys argue. "Stop it!" The room immediately quieted down. "You should be ashamed of yourselves…You're all supposed to be men of God and here you are arguing like school children."

"I'm sorry, Miss Tess," Kyle apologized sheepishly.

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to."

Kyle took the hint and turned to the man next to him, offering a simple but genuine apology.

"Anyone else?" Tess eyed the rest of them, folding her arms across her chest, waiting.

* * *

Michael, Darlene, and a few other young people wandered into the church. They were laughing and joking around, making their way down the aisle. Darlene was eager to touch the crucifix, hoping it would heal her scars. She had been in a terrible house fire as a child and ever since then part of her beautiful face had been disfigured from the burns.

As the group walked past where the angels were sitting, they recognized one of the other young people. A young man. His messy dark hair and tan skin was unmistakable. He smiled, discreetly exchanging a glance with them.

"I didn't know Rafael was on this assignment, too," Monica remarked.

"Neither did I," Andrew answered, a puzzled look on his face.

Rafael's brow furrowed when he realized that his friends seemed to be surprised to see him there. He shrugged it off and continued on his way.

As the group of young people passed, one of the men in black turned his head, his eyes following the young angel. Rafael felt someone's eyes on him and turned. Almost immediately, his gaze fell on the three men sitting quietly near the back. He didn't like the way the blonde one was looking at him. He narrowed his eyes at him but didn't say a word as he followed Michael and Darlene toward the front of the church.

Rafael was talking to Michael when something strange caught the corner of his eye. He glanced up at the statue and couldn't believe his eyes.

Drops of water were rolling down the statue's face.

It looked like…it was crying.

* * *

Tess nodded her head, smiling, satisfied with all the apologies that had been made.

She then turned to someone else in the room who had remained silent the entire time, drawing attention to him for the first time since he had arrived. "Travis. What do you think?"

All heads turned toward the ex-minister in surprise.

The Baptist preacher narrowed his eyes at him. "With all due respect, Travis is no longer on the board. He quit the ministry."

"Travis was a founding member of this board," Kyle said, defending his friend. "I respect his opinion, probably more than yours."

The preacher was about to talk back, but saw Tess glaring at him. He bit his tongue, settling in his seat. Everyone stared at Travis expectantly.

The man shook his head, wishing more than ever that he hadn't come. "I'm sorry. I've got nothing to say."

"Travis, the people are looking for an answer," the Lutheran preacher insisted.

"Then do what you usually do—make something up."

All the ministers stared at him, taken back.

"Well, I just witnessed a miracle," the young priest said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. "I once asked Travis what it would take to get him back in church. He said, 'A mira—"

A commotion out in the sanctuary suddenly caught their attention. "What was that?"

The all rushed out of the meeting room to see what was going on. People were now crowding around the crucifix, around Darlene Henchle. Her mother, Dee, was beside her in an instant, trying to find out why her daughter was freaking out.

"My scars…" Darlene turned to face her mother, smiling through her tears. "They're gone."

Dee gently touched her daughter's face, staring in disbelief. Darlene's face was back to the way it once was—free of scars.

Darlene's father, the sheriff, pushed his way through the crowd, wanting to see what was going on. He had just gotten there and had heard all the commotion. He found his wife and daughter hugging and crying.

"I touched it," His daughter tried to explain once her mother released her. "It was crying, and now the scars are gone."

Brett Henchle's wide eyes went from his daughter's face to the statue then back again. He rubbed his head. He felt another headache coming on. He eyes went back to the statue. If it worked for his daughter, maybe it would work for him, too…

Monica, Andrew, and Gloria stood behind the crowd of people, staring up at the statue warily. Rafael maneuvered through the throng of people to join his friends, his eyes mirroring their confusion and fear. All four angels looked over at the three men who were standing nearby, observing this latest development with great interest. Everything about this was wrong. God had nothing to do with it.

"Tess?" Monica spotted their supervisor standing with the group of ministers.

The other three angels followed her gaze and found Tess giving the three men in black a nasty look. But as soon as she realized she was being watched, she vanished. Leaving four very confused angels staring at the empty spot where she had been standing only moments ago.

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	6. Chapter 6

**Hey, everyone! Here's another chapter! This one's looong, so have fun reading! Sorry, I took a while to update. Life got in the way. Anyway, thanks to…**

littleGloriaFaith

GrimlockX4

**…for all the reviews. Very inspiring. Enjoy!**

**A/N: Warning—this one gets a bit creepy!

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**

"Matt, I don't see any 400-speed film."

It was the day after the church meeting and Travis had seen one of the tall, dark men hanging around his hill again. He wanted to be ready the next time the guy showed up, so he drove into town to the local convenience store looking for some film for his camera.

"It's there, Travis." The wheelchair-bound store owner, Matt Kiley, rolled past. He was getting ready to close up shop, so he was making sure everything was clean and in its proper place before he left. "Aisle two. Eye level."

Travis found the correct aisle and began scanning the shelves. He was so focused on what he was doing that he almost ran into someone as he moved down the aisle. He looked up to see who it was and to apologize. He smiled a little when he found Andrew standing there, a bottle of orange juice in one hand and a bag of potato chips in the other.

"Hi, Travis," the man greeted, smiling.

Travis studied him for a moment. "So, this is what you do on your day off?"

Andrew chuckled. "Guy's gotta eat, right?"

"Hurry up, guys. I'm closing early today." Matt called from the front of the store. He had a stick with a mechanical claw at the end in his hand and was busy trying to turn the door sign over so it read 'closed.' "Thinkin' about goin' up to that miracle church. Might get lucky."

The sign came loose and dropped to the floor. He sighed, reaching down with his "claw" to pick it up.

"Here." A young man with long, curly dark hair suddenly appeared beside him. He bent low, retrieving the sign. "Let me help you." He handed the sign back to the owner and at the same time took his hand in his in a handshake.

From somewhere else in the store, Andrew suddenly felt a chill similar to the one he and the other angels had felt at church the previous night. But this one was a bit different. More powerful. The lights flickered momentarily. Then the feeling was gone.

"Andrew, you okay?" Travis asked, noticing the strange look on his friend's face.

"Yeah…" Andrew nodded slowly, trying to shake off that strange feeling. "I'm fine." He instinctively turned toward where the store owner was.

A young man he didn't recognize was there with Matt. He took the claw from him and tossed it aside. "I don't think you'll be needing this anymore."

Then without another word, the man disappeared out the door.

Matt looked like he'd seen a ghost. He was trembling, his eyes wide with shock. Andrew ran up to him, Travis close behind.

"Are you okay?" The angel put a hand on Matt's shoulder and immediately drew it back as if he'd touched something hot. But it wasn't hot. It was cold. So cold.

"What's the matter, Matt?" Travis asked.

Matt didn't answer right away, but did something else instead. Something that took both Travis and Andrew by surprise. Bracing himself on the arms of his wheelchair, Matt slowly pushed himself up to his feet. He took a tentative step forward then another, marveling at the newfound strength in his lower extremities. He looked down at his legs, laughing and crying at the same time. He'd been healed!

Travis' jaw dropped and Andrew just stared. The man who had been bound to a wheelchair for most of his life was now able to walk. Was it a miracle…or something more?

"I didn't even thank him," Matt said, looking out the door, searching the streets for the man who'd done this to him.

Travis looked at him. "Thank who?"

Travis and Andrew followed the man's gaze and looked out the glass door just time to spot a dark figure disappear around the corner. Travis raced outside to pursue the stranger, completely forgetting about Andrew and Matt.

Travis followed the man down a couple of blocks and into the local supermarket where he was met with a very peculiar sight.

The lights were flickering on and off, casting spooky flashes on the faces of the building's occupants. Employees were running around trying to figure out what was going on. And there was a small crowd gathered by the checkouts, murmuring anxiously to one another.

Travis went over to see what was causing all the frenzy and almost tripped over a grocery bag lying on the ground, its contents spilled out all over the floor. Hearing a familiar voice, he looked up and into the center of the crowd. His eyes widened. Dee Henchle was lying on the ground in a puddle of milk, muttering incoherently in a strange language. Her daughter was kneeling next to her, a fearful expression on her face. She grabbed her mother's shoulders, trying to shake her out of it.

Darlene spotted Travis and began to explain what had happened. "Some man touched her and she just fell over."

Even as Travis listened to the young woman, his eyes searched the crowd. A noise from behind suddenly caught his attention. He whirled around and caught sight of someone casually strolling through the back of the store. He went after him. But when he got there, the figure was gone. He glanced around, left and right, between the aisles. Nothing. How could the guy have disappeared so fast?

"There, he went out the door!" Darlene called, pointing toward the front door that had just slid shut.

Travis raced out the door, running right past Sheriff Henchle who'd gotten the call a few minutes ago and had just arrived. He got out to the middle of the street, his eyes scanning in all directions, and found that the guy was nowhere in sight. He was just gone. He kicked the dirt beneath his feet, frustrated, and headed back to the store. The lights were back to normal and Brett was cradling his now lucid wife in his arms.

"You okay, baby?" Brett asked worriedly, stroking her hair. "What happened?"

Dee looked up at him, still in a bit of a daze. "It was like—like a jolt of electricity just went through my whole body."

"That's what it felt like when it happened to me, mom," Darlene said, knowing exactly what her mother was talking about.

"Who did this to you, huh?" the sheriff said, helping his wife to her feet. "Who you talkin' about, babe?"

"Well, I don't know who he was, but he looked like…" Dee's brow furrowed as she recalled the man's face, only now realizing who the guy reminded her of.

"Like who?" her husband pressed.

"He looked like Jesus?" She answered, unsure.

Before Brett could reply, he heard a lanky man in a plaid shirt and overalls saying, to no one in particular, "Weren't no Jesus. His name's Brandon Nichols. Brandon dropped her like a sack of potatoes—like in a kung fu movie!"

Travis turned to him "You sure you can identify him?" he asked, speaking up for the first time.

The man nodded, looking a bit annoyed. "Yeah. Brandon just stole my job as farmhand for Miss Macon. The old crow canned me and hired him, after all I done for her. I seen him cross the street, so I followed him over here to give him a piece of my mind."

"I don't like nobody layin' their hands on my wife." Brett's face turned red. Clenching his fists, he headed toward the door. "I'm goin' out there."

He hurried outside to his cruiser and the crowd followed. They were all curious to see this seemingly powerful stranger.

Unknown to them, two figures had been standing nearby watching the entire scene unfold before them, unseen by human eyes.

"What just happened here, Andrew?" Monica asked, a deep crease in her brow.

The blonde angel did not respond and just stared after the crowd, his face mirroring that of his friend.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, the sheriff arrived at Miss Macon's farm. The sweet, elderly lady directed him to her barn where the young man was busy working. He hiked over to the old wooden building, followed by Travis and Nancy Barrons, a journalist from the local newspaper. They were the only people Brett allowed to accompany him.

Peering through the barn doors, they found a young man busily moving and stacking bales of hay. He wasn't particularly handsome or anything. He didn't look special. He was just an average guy in his early twenties with a dark, mop-top hairdo, dressed in a black shirt, dirty blue jeans, muddy boots, and thick, leather work gloves.

No one noticed the three figures that had appeared in a corner of the barn, unseen. Monica and Andrew, now accompanied by Gloria, had followed them. The youngest angel was so busy marveling at the big wooden structure that she wasn't watching where she was going and backed up and fell into a pile of straw. She rolled into it, head over heels, half disappearing under the swishing stuff.

With an embarrassed look on her face, Gloria sat upright, brushing the straw off her arms and shoulders. The two older angels laughed at their friend goodnaturedly from their perch atop a towering stack of hay bales. The young angel rolled her eyes up at them then suddenly appeared beside them, untangling pieces of straw from her hair. Monica reached over and began to help while they all focused in on what was going on at the other side of the barn.

The young man noticed he was being watched and set down the bale he was carrying to approach his visitors. "Hello," he greeted, a friendly smile on his face.

The sheriff frowned. "You Brandon Nichols?"

"Yeah, that's me.

Brett switched into interrogation mode. Something his job had made him really good at. "Were you at Mack's Supermarket twenty minutes ago?"

To everyone's surprise, Brandon nodded, nonchalant. "Yeah, I was actually. How's your wife? Is she okay?"

"Fine." Brett eyed him warily. "I'm not sure you are, leaving the scene of an accident."

Brandon arched an eyebrow. "An accident?"

"Yeah." The sheriff glared at him. "She fell down when you touched her."

"Doesn't Dee have a reputation for being slain in the spirit on a regular basis?"

"Yeah, but how do you know about her reputation?" Brett demanded, narrowing his eyes at him suspiciously. "For that matter, how do you know her name?"

Brandon smiled mysteriously. "Well, I observe people closely and I make assumptions."

Once he finished speaking, he moved out of the way so his visitors could come and join him inside. Brett, Travis, and Nancy tentatively stepped into the barn, glancing around curiously as they did. Brandon went back to work, picking up the bale of hay he had set down earlier and putting it in its proper place. He then went over to the water spigot and began filling a pail with the cool liquid.

"Do you know anything about the mysterious strangers appearing around town?" Nancy asked, walking up behind him. She pulled out her notepad, ready to jot down his answer.

The angels' ears perked up. Maybe now they would get some answers.

"They mean no harm," Brandon assured her.

"They made several statements to people, including myself," Brett said, recalling a visit he'd had the night of the church meeting. He'd offered a ride to one of the strangers unknowingly on his way to the church. The man had vanished as soon as he'd delivered his unusual message. "Scared the crap out of me. About someone important coming. Did they mean you?"

"I guess you'll have to ask them," the young man answered, though he seemed to know more than he was letting on.

Just as he shut off the water, the barn door suddenly swung open and Miss Macon made her way in, a tray with four full glasses balanced in her hands. "Who wants lemonade?" she offered, setting the tray on a stack of hay bales. She gave her new farmhand a pat on the shoulder. "Brandon here's a real handyman. Not like that lazy good-for-nothin' Nevin Sorrel."

"Now, now," Brandon said, claiming a glass and taking a sip. "We're all his children."

The angels gave each other a look. There was something off about this guy.

"Oh, right he is." The sweet, old lady smiled affectionately at the young man. "He has the true calling. Brandon's even gonna hold some good old-fashioned revival meetings right in this barn."

"Really?" The sheriff looked Brandon over with a sneering, judgmental eye. He just couldn't picture a guy that looked like that leading a revival.

Miss Macon nodded proudly, turning to leave. She reminded Brandon to lock up when he was done then disappeared out the door, humming happily to herself. But those words had roused Travis' interest. And the angels' as well.

Travis arched an eyebrow. "So you think you have a message people should hear?"

"Well, you should come see for yourself," Brandon answered smoothly. "Why don't you be the judge?"

"Are you planning to advertise your revival in our newspaper?" Nancy asked hopefully.

He inclined his head, considering her proposal. "Well, I rely more on word of mouth. But with your journalism background, I should probably hire you as my publicist."

She laughed shyly, her cheeks turning pink.

Brandon chuckled. "I'm serious. You could talk to lots of wonderful people far and wide." His demeanor suddenly changed and he looked her square in the eye with an intense gaze. It was almost as if he were looking into her very soul. "A lot better than those lonely nights spent in those lonely Internet chat rooms."

As he spoke, the angels felt everything around them grow cold. Something entered that barn. Something so dark and powerful that it made all their senses go haywire. Gloria winced, not used to this sort of sensory overload. Monica gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, letting her know that she felt it too.

Brandon held his hand out to the lonely reporter and she took it without hesitation. She gasped in surprise then the expression on her face melted into one of pure content. Brandon released her hand, satisfied, and approached the sheriff.

"Brett, about the growth in your cranial lobe?" He looked Brett straight in the eye, unafraid, which irked the man that was otherwise not easily intimidated. "No longer in remission."

Brett's jaw tightened. He felt as if his privacy had just been invaded. "I told my doctor to shut up about that."

"Fifty percent chance of survival even after operation. But you've never been much of a gambler, have you?" Brandon continued, giving him a knowing look. "So, you keep dulling the pain away with that discount aspirin eating away a hole in your stomach." He held out his hand to the dying man. "I can make those odds disappear forever."

Brett looked down at Brandon's outstretched hand then up at its owner, uneasy. But the desire to be well won out over reason and he grasped his hand. He took in a sharp breath then felt his ever-constant headache ease until it was completely gone. Brandon let him go and moved on to Travis.

By now, the angels were starting to feel very uneasy. They were witnessing something that was—should've been—impossible. This Brandon guy was a displaying a sort of power that no normal human could possess.

When Andrew saw Brandon heading for Travis, he disappeared from Monica's side and reappeared next to Travis, unseen by anyone but his friends…or so he thought.

"Well, it might not be as sensational as bringing a loved one back," Brandon began, walking up to the ex-minister. "Travis, I can help you." He sounded sincere. "All you have to do is ask."

"This isn't right, Travis," Andrew whispered, speaking to the man's heart. "Don't listen to him."

Travis eyed Brandon suspiciously. "How do you know my name?"

"If you have an open heart, anything is possible," Brandon responded, easily dodging the question. He held his hand out for the heartbroken man to take.

Travis gave him a look then lowered his gaze toward the hand he was offering.

"Travis, don't do this," Andrew pleaded, seeing the indecision in the man's eyes. "You know in your heart that everything about this is wrong. Listen to it."

Then something happened. Something that the angel of death would never forget. It happened in the fraction of a second. Brandon was looking at Travis and then suddenly he was looking straight at the angel. For one horrible moment his mad, blazing eyes burned into Andrew's, and the hatred he saw there froze him to the spot.

Then Brandon's eyes were on Travis again as if nothing had happened. Travis looked at the young man one more time, took a deep breath, and turned away. All three angels breathed a sigh of relief though Andrew was still shaken by the way Brandon had looked at him.

Brandon pulled his hand back, giving Travis an icy glare. "Well, I guess we're not all ready yet." He turned his back on them, his friendly demeanor waning. "You have to excuse me, I have to get back to work."

With the girls now down on the ground with Andrew, the angels watched as Brett, Travis, and Nancy exited the barn. Travis had a troubled look on his face while the other two seemed to be floating on cloud nine. Brandon had returned to his chores, hauling two pails of water in each hand toward the door. Monica couldn't help but watch him for a moment. Something about the young man seemed strangely familiar. But then her attention was drawn to her best friend who'd become very quiet ever since he'd gone to help Travis.

"Andrew, are you okay?" she asked.

The blonde angel turned to face her, still looking pretty shaken up. He seemed to have been truly frightened by something. "He looked at me…he looked right at me. He knew I was there."

"What???" Both girls stared at him in shock.

Tess suddenly appeared beside them. "I think it's time I told you the truth." A moment later, Rafael materialized next to her, a puzzled look on his face. "All of you."

None of the angels noticed the resentful look Brandon shot in their direction before leaving the barn.

* * *

**Wow…did you really read all that? If you did, you're amazing! Really! What do you think is really going on? What will Tess tell them? Review for the answers!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey, everyone! Sorry for taking so long to update. I caught someone's cold and have been away from my computer. Also, I live in Arizona, so this past weekend was a bit crazy with the Super Bowl and all. Anyway, thanx 2…**

littleGloriafaith

GrimlockX4

**…for all the reviews! And I thank all my readers for their patience. Enjoy!

* * *

**

"False prophets will arise and do great signs and wonders to deceive…even God's people."

The five angels had gathered at the town pond. Andrew, Monica, and Gloria were sitting on a park bench, the youngest one scattering breadcrumbs for the birds to eat. Rafael was lounging beneath an evergreen tree, enjoying its shade. Tess stood by the water, her back to them, a distant look in her eyes.

"But why here?" Monica asked. "Why now?"

Tess turned around to face her charges, a serious look on her face. "I don't know, angel girl. But this isn't the first time that evil forces have come into this town. They've been here before. And now, they've come back to finish what they started all those years ago."

"So, what are you saying?" Rafael asked, rising from his seat, brushing leaves off his clothes. "It's up to us to save them?"

"No. No, no," the supervisor shook her head. "It's not our battle to fight. As man is God's greatest creation, so is man God's greatest love. And to be worthy of that love _man_ must undo the mistakes that they've created for themselves."

Monica nodded, understanding. "Redemption."

"It is the common man who is redeemed by the selfless act of God."

"And exactly which man are we talking about here?" Andrew wondered, leaning forward in his seat.

Tess gave him a look. "I think you already know the answer to that, angel boy."

"What? Travis? He's not ready to take on something like this."

"Guys," Gloria interrupted, speaking up for the first time. "I think that's the reason we're supposed to be here."

Both Tess and Monica smiled proudly at the youngest angel. She was finally learning.

As the angels continued to talk, formulating a plan, the sky grew dark. Huge, ominous storm clouds rolled in, blocking out the sun's rays.

"We better hurry, babies," Tess warned, glancing up into the heavens. "We're running out of time."

* * *

Andrew followed Travis to the police station that afternoon, remaining unseen. He sat atop a stack of evidence boxes, watching his assignment warily. For some reason, the man had requested to see the case file from his wife's murder. Something he hadn't seen since the day it had happened.

As Travis flipped through the crime scene photos, the horrible memories flashed in his mind. The pictures only intensifying them. Travis paused on a particular photo. He stared down at it, face white. Andrew immediately slid off his seat and went to see what had caught the man off guard. Travis was breathing, but nothing more. Frozen from the inside out. Andrew glanced over the man's shoulder and what he saw made his heart go sick. It was a full photograph of the victim. The brunette woman's hands and feet were bound with barbed wire and a chisel was sticking out of her chest, covered in blood. The angel shook his head sadly. He still couldn't understand how one human being could be so cruel to another.

Andrew stood beside Travis feeling his tension, hearing his breathing. He put a hand on the man's shoulder, lending strength. "You can do this."

Feeling something urging him on, Travis closed his eyes, took a calming breath, and continued sorting through the photos. It wasn't long until he found the picture he was looking for. A couple of paramedics, the detective in charge of the case, and Travis himself stood surrounding a gurney covered with a white blanket waiting to be loaded onto an ambulance. But there was someone else there. Someone who didn't belong.

Andrew had to do a double take when he saw the photo. He recognized the extra person in it. It was one of the men dressed in black. The blonde one. He'd been there the day Mariam had been murdered. _What was _he_ doing there…?_

Both he and Travis were so distracted by the photo that they didn't notice that someone else had come into the station. She was just about to leave when she spotted Travis in the next room. She kept glancing over at him, ignoring the deputy's attempt to ask her out.

"Hey!" Both Travis and Andrew jumped at the sound of her voice. Travis spun in his seat and found a blonde woman smiling at him. She looked vaguely familiar.

"Travis, right?" At the puzzled expression on the man's face, the woman elaborated. "You brought your dog to me. I'm Morgan, the vet." She saw the recognition flash across his face. "I'm very sorry I couldn't do more for your dog."

"Max is fine," Travis told her plainly.

Morgan arched an eyebrow. "You're kidding. He had full-blown distemper."

Travis shrugged, turning back to face the table he'd been working on. "He got better after I buried him."

The blonde vet gave him a strange look before allowing herself to be escorted out to the lot. Travis followed soon after. Before he had exited the station, Andrew had seen the man discreetly stuff the photo into an inside jacket pocket. He casually strolled out of the building, trying to look as innocent as possible even though he'd just stolen police property. _Travis, what are you up to?_

Andrew appeared outside just as Travis spotted Morgan getting ready to climb into her car. He smiled when he saw a familiar redhead sitting on the hood of the vet's car, visible only to her fellow angel. Monica returned his smile as he came to stand next to her, leaning against the front end of the vehicle. After exchanging a few pleasantries, they both focused in on the conversation that was happening in front of them.

Travis was showing Morgan the photograph he'd taken from the police station. He pointed at Blondie. "You recognize that man?" He was quick to explain when she gave him a confused look. "I'm asking you because I don't get into town much…maybe you've seen him around."

Morgan looked uneasy. "Uh, look, I'm new around here, so I don't know if I'm the best person to ask—"

"Have you seen him?" Travis pressed, now actually handing her the photograph for her to have a closer look at.

Monica slid off the hood to have a look for herself. Her eyes went wide when she saw the familiar dark figure that had been caught on film. She looked up at Andrew questioningly. The angel of death nodded slowly, confirming that it was who she thought it was.

"No, I haven't," Morgan said from beside Monica, shaking her head. She returned the picture to Travis. "He does look a little like this artist I used to date…"

"He was on my hill twice," Travis said, oblivious of the weird look he was getting from the blonde vet. "Then I had this flashback that I'd seen him before, and I had. He was in the crowd when—" He hesistated. "when they found my wife's body."

The look on Morgan's face changed at Travis' admission. He couldn't help but notice the same strange look he'd seen in his late wife's eyes at times. A cross between concern and empathy.

"That blonde man was on my hill," he repeated, trying to look anywhere but at her. "Once with two other men and then once alone. Then I saw him out at Miss Macon's farm with this guy named Brandon Nichols," he spat the name out as if he had a bad taste in his mouth, "who knows all about me—knows all about everybody." Then quite suddenly he turned and began heading toward his own car, muttering something about needing a digital camera.

Morgan and the two angels watched as Travis walked away, not sure what to make of that unusual conversation.

* * *

There was something about the coming of night that changed things. As the sun turned bloody red, then winked out behind a distant ridge; as the sky faded from blue to black; as the night voices of nature began to mourn, click, yelp, and chatter, the angels felt all their fears returning like a slow-working potion, spreading through their minds in perfect cadence with the deepening of night. It never came invited, but it was there for a reason: there was something _out there_ to be afraid of.

Monica stood outside Miss Macon's house with her arms crossed, looking up at the moon. The golden glow of the barn's lights shone behind her. All the excitement was happening down at the barn, but she had other things on her mind. Ever since they'd come to Antioch, she'd felt uneasy. There was something about this place. Something familiar.

"Hey, Monica!" came Gloria's voice from behind her, pulling her from her thoughts. "Come on, they're coming."

The Irish angel turned and gave her friend a warm smile before following her down to the barn.

There were already dozens of people there making their way inside the make-shift meeting place. And there were more arriving. As the two angels walked through the "parking lot," they caught sight of a familiar red Cadillac pull in. The driver gave them a brief glance and a smile before going off to find a space. A line had formed outside the barn where Sheriff Henchle and Matt Kiley stood confiscating cameras and the like. Apparently, those kinds of things weren't allowed inside for some reason.

Falling in line behind a very talkative teenager, Monica and Gloria spotted Travis and Andrew just a few people ahead. They saw the blonde angel give Travis a quick sideways glance as the man discreetly slid a new-looking digital camera into his pocket, keeping it hidden so it wouldn't be taken away.

When they all finally got into the barn, they were amazed at how different it looked. The last time any of them had been there, the place was a mess; the floor covered in straw and the air smelling of animals. Now, the place looked positively breathtaking. Bales of hay were neatly stacked by the walls and in corners. Foldable chairs filled most of the room, arranged in neat rows with an aisle down the middle that led to a brand new stage complete with state-of-the-art equipment. Candles flickered softly from all over the stage, giving the area a warm glow.

As they each found a place to sit or rather stand, as all the seats had been filled, the angels suddenly had the strange feeling they were being watched. Gloria looked around and gasped. "They're here."

The two older angels heard her and looked up to find the three men dressed all in black standing around the barn. Though they seemed to be keeping a watchful eye on all the people that were filing in, they were also watching the angels like hawks. It was really unnerving.

Brandon suddenly appeared on the stage, drawing their attention. He walked up to the microphone and began to introduce himself.

"Hello, people of Antioch. My name is Brandon Nichols." He held for applause then continued, "Now, I know most of you are here because of some of the signs and wonders that have been going on around town…and you want some answers. Well, you've come to the right place…"

As Brandon continued to drone on, the angels saw Morgan, Michael, and Rafael wander into the barn. While his mother hung back by the entrance, Michael kept going, finding a seat next to Darlene and her mother. Rafael also stayed behind to join his friends. The angels exchanged a quick greeting then focused their attention back onto the stage.

"All miracles are possible if you believe," Brandon was saying. "There's a gift in store for each and every one of you. All you have to do is have an open heart and a willing spirit." His eyes searched the crowd, his gaze resting a moment longer on the angels, before he found who he was looking for. "Natalie Davis. Will you please stand up?"

The young brunette who's eyes were hidden beneath a pair of dark sunglasses rose from her seat, looking a bit uneasy.

Brandon noticed her discomfort and chuckled. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you."

He climbed down from the stage and walked up to Natalie and studied her for a moment. All this time, the angels watched curiously, wondering what he was up to. "How long have you been blind?" Brandon asked, taking the girl by surprise.

"Three years…ever since the ac—"

Brandon cut her off. "Three years, huh? What would you call me if I said you didn't need to hide behind those sunglasses anymore?"

Natalie laughed. "Crazy."

"You're right." Brandon smiled a strange smile. "I am crazy." He gently pulled her sunglasses off her face, despite her protests, revealing pale, vacant eyes that seemed to be looking through him.

He extended his hand to her and the blind girl took it willingly.

There was a crackle of electricity and the angels felt a familiar chill sweep through the room. The unseen force was still as dark and powerful as before. Gloria wrapped her arms around herself, shivering—from cold or fear, she wasn't sure. But then she felt an arm wrap around her shoulders. She gave Rafael a grateful smile, leaning into his embrace.

Andrew watched Monica worriedly. She didn't seem to be doing so well. The Irish angel was rubbing her head like she was having a really bad migraine.

"Monica, are you okay?"

* * *

**Uh oh…what's up with Monica? Review to find out!**


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